


Best Day Ever

by hemashmeh



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Child Abuse, Cutting, Rape, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 04:41:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16612151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hemashmeh/pseuds/hemashmeh
Summary: I am a fucked up person and wrote a suicide story of myself. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE AFRAID OF BEING TRIGGERED





	Best Day Ever

I step into the bath water. The skin on my feet stings with the heat, but I persist, sliding myself down into the steamy water. I lay my head back as the water glides over my body in tiny waves until it settles, enveloping me in its warm embrace. I sigh and push my head back more, reveling in the feeling of the water touching my hair. The water relaxes me, and I’m going to need that relaxation for what’s to come.

I think about what has brought me to this moment. The tears, the pain, the imbalance of everything in my life, and I just want that to be over. I don’t know who’s going to discover me, but I left my best outfit at the side of the tub; I hoped they would cover me in my floral kimono and skinny jeans, like a pseudo Tyler Joseph. I thought about wearing it into the tub, but I decided I should meet God in the same way he birthed me.

So, I was naked in the tub, looking down as the hot water turned my legs and breasts pink. I breathed in the fragrant water and sighed again, only letting one tear slip. I really didn’t need to cry anymore; my mourning was almost over.

I again thought of how I could never properly love anyone after the abuse I had been through. I couldn’t give myself fully, and a brief flashback of the woods and the pain hit me. I felt my body clench as it fought off the memory, but I knew I needed to see it to go through with this. I felt how he entered that forbidden entrance, and the pain that exploded in me as he pounded into it. A few more tears slipped again as I gasped at the pain and the smell of leaves and dirt around me. As soon as it started, it was over.

I looked over at my phone, seeing the time was 2:04 am. I thought maybe I should’ve done this earlier, possibly dying at 11:46 pm in an act of symbolism of my birth, but it was too late for that. Not everything in my life could be poetic tragedy, as much as I wanted it to be. If my life was that, all the events that happened to me would have a good result, but that never happened. I realized I would never get what I wanted, and that there truly was no purpose to life. So, why live it?

I thought of my father, the way he lifted me by my neck that night in NC. They deny it, telling me it didn’t happen like that, but I felt my 9-year-old toes lift off the ground. I felt it when he bruised me with his hands on my bottom, hitting me way too hard as I cried. I felt when he kicked me in the shin, before realizing I hadn’t done anything wrong. I think he apologized to me right after, but it didn’t seem very sincere as he would just hurt me again in the future. He hasn’t hurt me in a long while, and I’ve forgiven him a little. But I can’t forget, and I don’t think he knows the damage he inflicted on me.

I looked over at the razor sitting on the edge of the tub. I hadn’t cut with a razor in forever, instead preferring the roughness of a serrated knife against my skin. Razors were too clean of a cut. They weren’t right for me, not like how a steak or bread knife ripped through the skin, leaving a rougher cut. When I didn’t have that, I would scratch at my skin until it bled. I liked to imagine that I could scratch out my veins, so they would splay out like the roots of a plant being pulled from the earth. Soon, I would be pulling my life out of that same earth.

I thought of my friends and how they would react to my death. I really didn’t want to hurt them like this, but I was hurting too. I hoped they would understand that I just couldn’t do this anymore. Going between mania and depression, experiencing hallucinations and the anxiety attacks; it was just too fucking much. I couldn’t live with myself, and there was no help that worked for me. I just didn’t want to try anymore. I’ve tried so hard, and I tried to be so strong. After a while, I stopped trying to fight it, and even that didn’t work. So, I decided to finally give in completely, and attempt in a completely irreversible way.

In the end, I knew it would be better off for them anyway. I had been a burden to everyone for years, and this would be my last selfless act for them. Maybe it was selfish to give in to the pain, but at least I would be putting an end to all the trouble I had caused. I was sick of wasting people’s kindness and money. They should be spending it on people that are worth it.

Another tear slipped at the thought, and I squeezed my eyes shut to try and stop them. My eyes had a different plan however, and I couldn’t stop them as the tears kept coming. A moan escaped my lips as I cried, shuddering at the pain in my chest. Even though I was submerged in heat, goosebumps appeared on my flesh as I cried. I was so fucking cold. I slid myself down further to warm myself up, but it was no use.

I knew it was almost time, but I wanted to experience life a little longer. I thought about happier memories, the ones least touched by depression and pain. I thought about the times I went to Canobie, the times I went to the beach and was almost happy for once, the times I spent in somebody’s arms, even if they hurt me too. I thought about music, and how maybe my soul would live on in the videos of me performing, the only evidence that I had been here. I was here. Soon, I would be gone.

I knew I had picked a good song to listen to while I died. Best Day Ever played as I laid in the bathtub. It sounded like nostalgia and happy memories, and this last act would be my last attempt at joy, the joy of finally leaving, the joy of pain ending, the joy of completing a journey. This truly would be the best day ever for me, even if it wasn’t for others. I felt bad that I hadn’t listened to Mac before he died, but at least I’d be bringing him with me on my way out.

It was getting closer, and I grabbed a razor. I pressed it against my arm, but not the wrist yet. I wanted to feel it again before I went, so I glided it across my skin and gasped at the pain as blood appeared. I moaned again at the sweet pain, so awful and so good. It was confusing to be a masochist. Once again, I pressed the blade to my skin, and created another blood-filled line next to the first. I did it again and again until I had 6 cuts on my left arm. I moved onto my right arm and created 5 more. 11 was also symbolic to me. 11 was my number.

I knew I was stalling, but I was not going to avoid this completely. Tonight would not be a repeat of all my other attempts. It would not be a weak attempt at death, and I was not going to back off this time. I thought about those times I would wrap a belt around my throat and squeeze until I almost passed out, but never enough to kill me. I thought about the time I grabbed all those old pills of my Aunt’s and the Tylenol, and how I only managed to get 4 Tylenol down before bursting into sobs and stopping. I had been a coward, never completing the act out of fear of the unknown. But after 9 years, my future was known. If it had been the same for 9 years, it will be the same for another 9 years.

I thought about my cat, and how I couldn’t say goodbye to him. Would he know I was gone forever? Would he stay in my room, waiting for a person that would never come back? More tears fell again, but I couldn’t let this stop me either.

I grabbed the razor again, and I pressed it to my right wrist first. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Then, I dug down the blade into my wrist and quickly swiped it across. I almost screamed at the pain, but only let out another moan as I opened my eyes, seeing the blood drip down my arm. Before I stopped myself, I switched the razor to my right hand and dug it down into my left wrist this time, dragging it through the skin and veins. I cried at the pain but let very few sounds out. I looked down at my blood mixing with the water. It was kind of pretty how the blood made little swirls in the water, like smoke in the air. I dropped the razor outside of the tub, hearing the high-pitched sound it made when it hit the tile. I let my arms fall into the water, wincing at the sting of the soap in the cuts. Already, I was getting dizzy as I watched more blood mix with the water. I laid my head back down into the water until it was just touching my ears. I sighed and closed my eyes, waiting until death took me.

 

No matter where life takes me, find me with a smile  
Pursuit to be happy, only laughing like a child  
I never thought life would be this sweet  
It got me cheesin’ from cheek to cheek, aye, aye  
And I ain’t gonna wait for nothing  
Cause that just ain’t my style  
Life couldn’t get better  
This gon’ be the Best Day Ever


End file.
